Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1887-06-29

, for the fallings of each other, that they cal
fulfill the divine precept: glove one an
, other.'
\ New York Press Monument.
DIR. TALMAGE's TRIBUTE TO JOURNALISTS
On Sunday, June the 18th, was dedicated
the granite monument erected by the N
7. Press Club on the press burial lot il
| Cypress Hills Cemetery. Mr.. Chauncey
NJ. Depew was the orator of the day, the
Rev. T. De Witt Talmage delivered an elo
quent address, and the Amphion Chorus
of Brooklyn, sang sweet songs. The sur
roundings of the granite shaft are pictur
esque in the extreme. 1t rises from the
summit of a wooded hill and from its base
may be had glimpses of charming land
scape. On the base of the monument ia
cling the north is the inscription: Erected
by the New York Press Club" There are
two graves beneath its shadow, on the one
hand that of John B. Wood, reverently re.
membered as ''Doctor" Wood, and on the
other that of Charles H. Pulham, the Press
Clubs fourth president. Scattered about
the burial plot are the graves of eleven
other journalists, each marked by a sepa-
rate head-stene. The shaft rises 3S feet
above the ground.
After Mr.. Depew's address, Mr.. Hugh
Farrar McDermott, member of the Press
Club, read the following touching and
beautiful dedicatory ode, prepared by him
for the occasion:
Grief and love keep step together,
AS step by step we come,
With silent lips and throbbing hearts,
| And sorrow bowed and dumb.
| The golden chain that bound us fast q
Was merits mutual tie,
! And every pulse that kindly beat
In kindness won reply.
What beauty robes the simple faith
That labors for mankind,
And views the glory of it's deeds,
Whilst to its virtues blind!
The pens the sceptre ofthe world,
When striking for the right;
When welded in the cause of man,
'Tis tipp'd with hallowed light.
The stroke that drives the rivet home,
The thought that guides the pen,
The battle fought for Freedoms God,
Such merits make the men.
'Tis softly whispered in the soul.
Mans thoughts go out to man;
| Aad all he thinks that's pure and good
Enshrines Jehovah IS plan.
Then breathe sweet truths along the air,
And spread them on the gale;
They'll sanctify that atmosphere
Which human hearts inhale.
REV. DIR. TALMAGE's ADDRESS.
The Rev. DR.. T. De Witt Talmage was
then introduced, and spoke as follows:
"This Sunday afternoon, bounded for
me on one side by an hour and a half of
morning service, and on the other side by
an hour and half of evening service, would
not have found me here to-day had not
thought this occasion most beautiful, ap-
proprate and imperative. What becomes
of the bodies of the deceased is said bv
some to be of no Importance. You will see
of how much Importance they are when
| the archangel takes up his trumpet, and,
pointing it this way, blows the blast that
wakes the dead. Amid these mounds.
showed under with flowers white, and in
carnadined with flowers crimson, we meet
the departed journalists. My favorite book
teaches me that this world and the next
are in communication perpetual. and there
is constant going and coming, and the de-
parted have heard of this gathering at
Cypress Hills to do honor to their memory,
and they are here, all rested, appreciative,
sympathetic grateful, supernal, radiant.
Hail, old-time friends! And CDR" John
Wood is surely among them. If any peo-
pie in all the world ought to have attrac-
tive entombment, it is the journalists.
The more fatiguing the pilgrimage the more
important that the pilgrim has pleasant
wayside inn for the night. To ninety-nine
out of hundred newspaper-men life is a
drudge, grind, an exhaustion and an in
Justice. Once in while a brain-worker,
using voice as we'll as pen, comes 10 ade-
quate compensation, or through syndicate
he commands high prices for literary toll.
I But know and have known scores of jour.
nalists in these cities in a hand-to-han6
fight with appalling necessity.
"And yet, when the community can get
their newspapers one cent cheaper-whicl
always means harder times for those who
make the newspaper there is a parOxysm O.
frantic delight, and the joy of that one cent
! saved is like that of Columbus at the dis
covery of America. Laughter and ap
plause.] Pitch them all in between the irol
cylinders of the printing press-the report
, ers masculine and feminine, and night edi
tors and day editors, and proof-readers ant
occasional contributors-pitch them all il
and grind them up and grind them dow
till blood and crushed bone roll like water
in mill-race, if we can only save a cent Of
our morning or evning newspapers. Dea
, Lord of Heaven and earth, make easie
, times for newspaper men by stopping tn
! canonization and metamorphosis and glori
, fcation of a nickel
"But brain work has never beel
fully appreciated. Poets Corner, in West
minister Abbey, is an attempt to pay for tn
, sufferings of Grub street. Behold in tina
: Abbey the wonderful mortuary and elegia
honors for Samuel Butler. But where di
he die? In garret. And there, in tina
stupendous pile of consecrated masonry,
| the grave ofa poet of whom Waller wrote
, 'An old schoelmaster by the name of job
Milton has written tedious volume on th
fall of man; if its length be no virtue it ha
, none.' There, also, is the splendid tom
] | of Sheridan. Poor Sheridan! What pit
D | it was he could not have discounted tina
4 monument for mouthful of something t
, eat. Five per cent. of the money now OK
f pended at Burns banquets would have mad
Y the great Scotch poet comfortable and ker
r him from being almost harried to death b
. the drudgery of an excise man. Samut
Boyce, the accomplished author, was foun
: famished with pen in mis- hand. Richar
: Savage died in a prison for a debt of es
a The poet Crabbe walked all night on Wes
: minister bridge because too poor to pay fc
; lodging. Fielding, who tickled the world
i fancy with the story of Tom Jones, wa
q buried among paupers at Lisbon, without
e stone to mark his grave. Tasso, in Sol
) net, begs the light of a cats eye that b
/ might see to write, because he could not Al
Il ford candle. By all means sarcophagu
i and sculptured granite, emblazoned with 81
Q plauding epitaphology and eulogium pos
it mortem, but | plead for better treatmer